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This is a fictional story but it has some PR elements in it. I am bored and writing it for the lulz. If you like it I can write more in the future.

There I was alone in the desert. Where the hell is my squad ? Why did I sign up for this I thought to myself. I looked at my map, then my compass, I was about 900 M away from the nearest landmark but I couldn't see anything. The dust was blowing like crazy and my comms were disabled. I got up off the ground and headed towards hill 194 but there was heavy terrain to climb so I opted for the flatlands. A Huey passed by over head shaking the ground as I walked, there was no way he seen me I thought to myself. The thought of popping smoke crossed my mind but by the way the dust was blowing I thought it would be a waste and did not want to give my position away. According to my map there would be no hostiles in the vicinity but I could not take the chance. I continued on foot for another 10 minutes until I heard popcorn. Was I going mad? Was the sand blowing slowly into my brain? I took a sip of water from my canteen then realized it was AK-47 fire. I was in no condition for this but I had to regroup or I would not stand a chance. I took cover behind a palm tree and took out my GLTD. As I peered through the lenses I still seen nothing but dust in the distance. Why oh why did the army pinch pennies and overlook the thermal imaging for this useful piece of equipment! As I put it back into my rucksack my radio suddenly came to life. "Steel rain this is raptor adjust fire". "Raptor this is Mouse Command" I replied. "Mouse Command, your squad is holed up in bunker 49 south of your objective in Charlie 8 Key 6" was the reply. "Over and out" I replied, it was now time to move. I knew my squad would not abandon me! I needed to link up with them as soon as possible. The Middle Eastern Coalition had done a number on our fuel depot back in January and there was no way we would let them take out our ammunition depot now. It was time to act. As I propped myself up off the palm tree a jet whipped by overhead with a deafening roar. A few seconds later I heard a loud explosion but still could not see anything. I decided to take my chances and head towards the bunker that my squad was in. According to my map it was only a short jog away and with all the dust everywhere I decided I would make a break for it. 5 minutes later it became apparent it was a warzone in the bunkers but we had come out on top. Bodies were strewn across the concrete like decorations. "Scared what took you so long! Why did you hop out of the chopper so early?" I did not have an answer, my nerves were jittery as soon as I got into that Blackhawk at base and heard stories about our pilot's squad crashing into trees in the middle of the desert. "Now is not the time" was my response. According to the commander, we had 2 tanks and an APC moving in from the north. "Jefferson how much ammo do you have for your Javelin?" "Only one round sir", "Well then you better make it count!". We headed to the window on the second story and he propped his Javelin on the window and waited. "Dutch, get your *** up here and give Jefferson some cover" I shouted downstairs. Dutch came running with a big smile and propped his M240 in the window beside Jefferson.


Shall I continue ?

Some mistakes, like GLTD is actually spelt GTLD, and you don't say "Over and out" at the end of a radio conversation, only "Out".

Your story is quite good though, I would like to hear what happens next...

Good story, got a little twisty in the middle... Like my Creative Writing teacher said "Bill, you gotta slow down. Waaaaayyyyy down." I suggest you do the same.

It was like it was slow-mo in the beginning, then fast-pace in the middle and it jumped a skip into the Javelin part... Slow it down, mate!

(The GLTD is right.)

And I guess you should get a bit of your facts straighten up. If I recall correctly, even though a Javelin does not have a backblast, I don't think it is safe to fire from inside a building. And one little detail I'd might take a look at... Maybe the dude should ask someone else if they had extra Javelin rockets, cuz those are some big babies!

The "over and out" part is the Hollywood mistake. It just sounds cool. "Over" means you ended your transmission and are awaiting response. "Out" means you are done transmitting. "Over and Out" is a contradiction per se.

Oh and one last thing... MEC stands for Middle Easter Chinese. Middle Easter Coalition was created by EA, and as we all know it, EA is on the look out for the moneys, so the DEVs renamed the team for ME Chinese. Or so I've been told...It IS a common mistake, so I don't blame you.

Good luck mate!


P.S. Use paragraphs, mate! It is much easier to read.

Dutch was an all out American from Kentucky, farmer I was pretty sure but I never knew why we called him Dutch but he didn't seem to mind. Maybe his parents were from Europe or something. "What's with the smile" I asked him. "Well sir to be honest, I found a little trophy on one of those MEC soldiers downstairs" he then proceeded to pull out a flask, take a swig and handed it to Jefferson. "Damnit Dutch we are in the middle of a warzone and your drinking!" I shouted. He calmly looked to Jefferson and then to myself and they both replied "damn right sir, how else are we supposed to calm our nerves, with coffee and potato chips? The army only gave us enough smokes to last a week and we couldn't bring any more cause our bags are already stuffed". Smartass I thought and took the flask and gulped down a mouthful myself and handed it back to Jefferson. No idea what the heck those MEC ******** drank but it seemed to taste like a mixture of licorice and peppermint. "Need I remind you Jefferson if you shoot that Javelin in this room you are going to take out Dutch and yourself with the back pressure". "Sir yes sir, just observing and waiting to report for orders".

I headed back downstairs to see how the rest of the squad was doing. As I was halfway downstairs I could here the infamous harmonica being played. Bootsie was from Oregon, said he "never played a musical instrument in his life before he came to this war" and boy oh boy how we could tell. Everytime he played that bloody thing it was just a bunch of spanglin, wranglin and a whole lot of danglin. Nothing comprehensive came outa that piece except for headaches. However, Bootsie loved it, kept him off our backs and more importantly he had the best shot in the whole Brigade so we dealt with it in our own ways. "Bootsie I yelled at him", he immediatly put the harp down and stood up to attention, "I need you to do a weapons and ammo check, make sure everyone has plenty of ammo and are well supplied with water". "No problem sir" he replied. He slung his DMR onto his back and proceeded to search the bunker for all supplies that would come in handy.

Moses yelled from the corner, "thank you sir, I ran out of Aspirin during the Battle of Quinling and have not found any since. What are your orders?" Moses I need you on the horn to brass and try to get us some CAS support. We only got one rocket for the Javeline and HQ reported that 2 tanks and an APC were heading our way. See if they can scrounge up an Apache to give us a hand." "No problem, I will head upstairs with Jefferson and Dutch and work my magic." Moses seemed to have a way with words over the radio. I guess being a newspaper columnist gave him experience but he was just so slick with the operators we let him do it. He was the only draftee in the squad, we were all volunteers who signed up for this so we covered his *** as best we could. Afterall, he had a family to go back to and we all made an oath to protect one another and I was damn sure I wasn't going to tell his wife and kids he wasn't coming home.

One time around the Qwai River Basin, he nearly had his arm torn off by a .50 if it wasn't for Dutch. We were pinned down by 80mm mortars and Moses being the noob that he was ran out into the open forest to get himself patched up by the medic who was in the foxholes. Did I forget to mention it was raining high explosives. I told him to stay down but he was a draftee so I shouldn't have expected much. He got up, ran about 3 steps and Dutch tackled him to the ground just as green tracer fire tore into the trees behind us. Dutch told him in a stern but calm voice "cherry, if you wanna make it home you better do as your SL tells you." I hated calling in air support and artillery as I could barely ever hear what the operator was saying, I gave the radio to Moses and he managed to get a JDAM dropped on the enemy and we were able to escape the mortars to fight another day. Ever since then we have gotten along just fine.


Whats going to happen next ?

Well, you have inspired me to write a short story too
It is nearly July. I enlisted and I was scared, it was my first day out in the battle. I checked over everything on my M4A1. I thought about what this guy said in HQ, I couldn't remember his name. The most vivid thing on my mind was the picture of my squad. It is tough looking for my squad in this frenzy. I frantically looked at the ground vehicles, remembering we were supposed to help out on the initial assault to soften the area for the air insertions. I saw a few men grinning at me from what looked to be the entrance to the vehicle bay.

The picture flashed in my head, those men were my squad members. I rushed over there and snapped to attention.
"Don't treat me like royalty" A burly man boomed. The tone of his voice gave me the feeling he was the one in charge. I notice I was still saluting and I lowered my arm.
"Ok, Rook," he motioned to his left and right, " He is Ronny and that's Nick" Ronny was a bigger man, short, more fat than muscle and he smelled like smoke. He adjusted the AT4 on his back and scratched his nose. (Americans used them right?) He held an M4A1 but his had a 4X zoom scope mounted on it. Nick was average weight and height. He had an radio and most of our field supplies. He tossed me a small knapsack with the Redcross symbol on it.
"Hey, don't listen to Ronny he didn't want any recruits to train, so expect him to challenge you." I nodded at Nick and tossed the knapsack on my back. I have been given the role of squad medic.
"Gotta make the greetings short, Rook, we gotta move" I followed my squad through the bay, and approached the humvee. I reached out my shaking hand, gripped the door handle and yanked the door open. I climbed across the cramped space inside the cab of the humvee and took a seat behind the driver seat. Nick settled himself into the driver's seat and looked out of the passenger window, as if he was looking for someone. The leader came in and sat down beside me. Ronny plopped himself on the passenger seat and shut the door.
"WAIT!" a voice yelled. I looked to my right, out the window towards the man running towards the humvee.
"That's Luke!" Nick said. The leader opened his door, stepped out, and let Luke in. Luke looked at me then climbed up and took his position on the .50. The leader came back in,
"You can call me Will" Will looked forward and tapped Nick's shoulder. The humvee lurched forward.

Did you played on NwA yesterday? I had a guy called Scared in my "recon" squad.

How did he feel?

BUMP ... just read the others story and am intrigued, keep goin it is def cramped in my PC (HMV) too

goguapsy wrote:P.S. Use paragraphs, mate! It is much easier to read.

This. Use it, and a lot less people will think "tl;dr".

goguapsy wrote:P.S. Use paragraphs, mate! It is much easier to read.

^ This.

I refuse to read any text for recreational purposes that isn't paragraphed properly. At the moment this text is not